NoveLight ™
Everyone has a plan.
Even among doomsday preppers like us, who share similar overarching philosophies, opinions on specific strategies often diverge.
For example, should one attempt to engage with the post-apocalyptic world or embrace extreme isolation? Should you form a collective, or survive only with a small group of family and close friends?
On the doomsday prepper forum Viva! Apocalypse!, where I paid a steep $100 monthly membership fee, debates often flared up over these differences.
I preferred observing from the sidelines rather than participating in these arguments. And from what I saw, truly constructive debates were rare.
Most arguments devolved into endless keyboard battles, stubbornly running in circles, only to culminate in the ultimate "wealth flex."
It usually boiled down to, "I have more money, I've spent more on better facilities, and I own superior weapons, so my perspective is the correct one."
Distasteful as these scenes were, the arguments of those flaunting their wealth weren't necessarily wrong.
After all, more money undeniably enables better preparation.
For instance, one thing I desperately wanted was a self-sufficient nuclear power generator. But that was far beyond my means. For someone like Donald Orris in the U.S., though, selling one of his yachts from his collection would more than cover the cost.
Of course, wealth isn't the sole source of authority.
Strength, experience, and skill can often carry even more weight than money.
Take one individual, for example.
Community ID: John_nenon
Known to us as Jon Nae-non. He's Korean.
What made him special wasn’t necessarily his wealth.
John Nae-non was a professional Hunter.
Hunters are those who protect humanity by hunting monsters that emerge from dimensional rifts known as breaches. Becoming a Hunter requires passing extremely stringent qualifications and exams.
In short, not just anyone can become a Hunter.
Moreover, Hunters are much stronger in combat than the average human. Their profession also grants them access to classified information that regular people wouldn’t even know existed.
That said, the Hunter profession has its own ranking system. And John Nae-non never disclosed his rank.
All he ever verified was his professional Hunter license.
But even that was enough to establish his credibility within the Viva! Apocalypse! forum, where most members were untrained and speculative doomsday enthusiasts.
I once watched a wealthy forum member, notorious for showing off his expensive prepper setups, back down the moment John Nae-non revealed his Hunter credentials.
However, what really drew my attention to John Nae-non wasn’t just his Hunter status.
He shared a survival philosophy remarkably similar to mine.
His idea of establishing large, permanent survival facilities in secluded areas—close enough to cities for access yet remote enough to avoid unwanted visitors—aligned perfectly with my own thoughts.
He was someone worth learning from.
When the underground bunker I had painstakingly built began to turn into a mold-ridden hellhole due to groundwater seepage and condensation, his posts provided invaluable knowledge. From effective mold eradication techniques to why cement putty is better suited for flooring than lime putty, and how to manage groundwater based on aquifer types—his expertise saved me countless hours of trial and error.
His concept of building multiple decoy bunkers instead of relying on a single shelter for long-term survival also inspired me. The idea of rigging decoy bunkers with remote-detonated explosives or booby traps to eliminate invaders at the press of a button was so ingenious it left me awestruck.
John Nae-non wasn’t just knowledgeable; he was approachable, answering questions with patience and detail. Combined with his credibility as a professional Hunter, it was no surprise he became a popular figure in the community, particularly among Korean users.
But even he wasn’t perfect.
Every one of his posts was prefixed with “[John Nae-non].”
For instance:
Why he did this, I’ll never understand.
Still, the content of his posts was consistently high-quality and professional.
Over time, though, things started to change—both for him and the forum.
As the signs of an impending apocalypse became more apparent, the forum attracted more users, particularly Koreans. That’s when trouble began.
Jealousy brewed among certain users who disliked John Nae-non’s dominance in the community.
At first, it was subtle—passive-aggressive comments that indirectly criticized his posts. Instead of outright attacking his information, they’d present alternative perspectives to undermine his credibility.
It wasn’t long before open hostility emerged.
And rather than ignoring it, John Nae-non seemed to care deeply about public opinion within this trivial community. He went as far as revealing his face in an attempt to assert dominance.
Up until then, he had only hinted at his muscular physique through photos of his thick forearms or chiseled chest in tight shirts.
The reveal was clear: he wanted to send a message—"Don’t mess with me."
Unfortunately for him, his face didn’t match his imposing body. He looked surprisingly kind and innocent.
If anything, this only fueled the negativity. Critics began openly mocking him, questioning his Hunter rank and speculating that he was merely a lowly D-rank Hunter—the bottom tier.
Eventually, rumors about his real name surfaced. Allegedly, his name was Goo Ssang-hyo.
Instead of stepping down from his role as the community’s star, John Nae-non tried to tackle the criticism head-on.
He organized an offline meetup for Korean users of Viva! Apocalypse!—a bold move for someone facing public scrutiny.
I decided to attend. After all, one of my major construction projects had just wrapped up, and I was in the planning stages for my next big step. Who knows? I might even gain some useful advice.
Ten people showed up at the meeting.
The age range was diverse, but there was a noticeable presence of men in their 50s who had the financial means and physical energy to prepare for the apocalypse.
The majority were in their 30s and 40s, often professionals with titles like "doctor" or "lawyer."
A handful of attendees were in their 20s, like me, though most of them seemed more interested in the novelty of prepping than seriously preparing for the end of the world.
It was late autumn, and the air was chilly. Yet John Nae-non wore nothing but a thin tracksuit.
The outfit was clearly two sizes too small, emphasizing his famously muscular physique as if the fabric might rip apart at any moment.
With all eyes on him, John Nae-non introduced himself.
“Hello, I’m professional Hunter Goo Ssang-hyo.”
Four out of ten attendees clapped, myself included.
The meeting venue wasn’t anything fancy—just a cheap barbecue joint known for its unlimited refills of pork belly.
Our host, John Nae-non, confidently ordered nine servings of pork belly for everyone, declaring that he was on a diet and wouldn’t eat.
However, when the owner insisted that each person had to order at least one serving, he reluctantly added a portion for himself.
For someone claiming to be dieting, he ended up eating and drinking more than anyone else.
The quality of the meat was exactly what you’d expect from a budget all-you-can-eat restaurant, sourced from Belgium, Germany, and Chile.
As the night went on, many of the older, wealthier attendees left early.
John Nae-non didn’t seem to mind.
If anything, he looked relieved as he downed another shot of soju and launched into his prepared monologue.
“War is coming. China will start it, no doubt. The Party is trying to hold things together, but internally, it’s chaos. Too many breaches have opened, and entire provinces are being evacuated. Honestly, it’s just a matter of time...”
His insights were nothing groundbreaking—standard information any professional Hunter would know, and about six months outdated at that.
It was clear he lacked access to the kind of classified intel higher-ranking Hunters might have.
Still, I didn’t mind.
My expectations for John Nae-non were entirely different.
“Excuse me, John Nae-non. I have a question.”
As a long-time supporter who always hit "like" on his posts, I finally spoke up.
“And you are...?”
“SKELTON,” I replied.
“Ah, SKELTON!”
His innocent face lit up with a warm smile.
“You’re planning to build a fuel depot? I know a guy. Want me to introduce you? What scale are you thinking—gas station-level?”
Years of showing my support hadn’t been in vain.
John Nae-non not only answered my questions in detail but also offered to connect me with someone who could assist with the construction, even if it was off the books.
Despite his rough edges, he turned out to be a genuinely decent person.
Thanks to his connections and advice, my bunker complex reached new heights of sophistication.
As for that first meetup, it was a massive success for John Nae-non.
Attendees wrote glowing posts about him afterward, further boosting his reputation.
I contributed to the praise as well.
SKELTON: Seeing John Nae-non in person was incredible. His charisma and rugged masculinity are unmatched—I might’ve fallen for him if I weren’t a guy!
John Nae-non liked my post.
Over time, these meetups turned into full-blown fan meetings.
Attendance skyrocketed.
At the last event I attended, there were over 80 people.
By then, John Nae-non had become something of a shadow in the corner, surrounded by unfamiliar faces.
I decided that would be my final meeting. There was nothing left for me to learn, and my personal projects demanded my attention.
As I was preparing to leave, a heavily intoxicated John Nae-non stumbled over to me.
“SKELTON,” he slurred.
His glassy eyes met mine, a rare vulnerability in his expression.
I waited silently, curious about what he had to say.
“Are you... a Hunter?”
“Me? A Hunter?”
“You seem familiar...”
“Do I?”
I hesitated, debating whether to tell the truth or lie.
“Actually—”
Before I could finish, a group of people burst out of the restaurant, surrounding John Nae-non.
“Hyung! What are you doing? A TV station contacted you!”
“A reporter wants an interview!”
They were his newer, more fervent fans.
Clearly as drunk as he was, they glanced between him and me with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
“Hyung, is there something you need to discuss with this guy?”
One of them stared intently at John Nae-non.
Encircled by his fans, he hesitated for a moment before turning back to look at me.
“...”
His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something, but then pressed firmly shut.
John Nae-non turned and walked back into the restaurant with his fans.
That was the last I ever saw of him.
After that, we never crossed paths again, and he rarely appeared on the community forums.
I returned to the Viva! Apocalypse! forum about a year before the outbreak of the war.
“Hm?”
As I sipped my coffee, I tilted my head in confusion at the monitor.
John Nae-non’s posts were gone.
Every single one.
Dozens of detailed informational posts, along with thousands of casual, diary-like ramblings, had vanished without a trace.
It didn’t take me long to figure out why.
After I stopped attending meetups, another group of users began targeting him.
Unlike the subtle and indirect criticisms he’d faced before, this new wave of attackers wielded far deadlier weapons.
Anonymous338: "This scumbag John Nae-non just copy-pasted posts from the European board."
The vast library of knowledge John Nae-non had prided himself on turned out not to be his own.
He had plagiarized content from a French user active on the French-language board, passing it off as his own work.
When the community was smaller, no one noticed. But as the number of users grew and sharper-eyed members joined, John Nae-non’s charade was exposed.
The higher you fly, the harder you fall.
The once-revered king of the community was brought down in a spectacular collapse.
A deluge of criticism poured in, and even his loyal fans turned their backs on him.
I managed to dig up some of the posts from that time:
RokaGG: "I’m so disappointed in you, John Nae-non..."
RKKArA: "Nice seeing you cling to the bottom rung of pro Hunters with all your lies~"
Anonymous82: "Kaaaah... spits!"
Doyourbest321: "How are you planning to take responsibility for this?"
Hasanius: "Kill yourself, John Nae-non."
The comments were a maelstrom of vitriol.
Apparently, rather than defend himself or attempt to prove his innocence, John Nae-non responded with a short, defiant outburst:
John_nenon: "Your mom."
That was the last anyone heard from him.
As for his fate, nothing is certain.
There were rumors that the region he lived in was utterly destroyed, but no confirmation of his death ever surfaced.
Some claimed they’d intercepted communications recently that might have come from Jon Nae-non.
Is he dead?
Or is he somewhere far away, fighting for survival in his own way?
Sometimes, when I pump fuel from my depot, I think about that man.
To me, at least, John Nae-non was...
...a great mentor.